


real, real love

by lovelight (Delenaley)



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, M/M, Marriage Proposal, boys will be boys even when theyre in a committed relationship, roughhousing is fun actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:00:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27831901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delenaley/pseuds/lovelight
Summary: Growing up together leaves little for them to be awkward with. They knew everything about each other, anything they owned also belonged to each other, and it only got worse after they started dating. Being boyfriends didn't change their usual dynamic, which already has a fixed rhythm and harmony, a melody only the two of them are attuned to—it only addedmore.Awkwardness becomes stark in the wake of it. A missed tune, off beat—noticeable even in the most microscopic scale.
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Ji Changmin | Q
Comments: 11
Kudos: 56





	real, real love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lunecarree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunecarree/gifts).



> dedicated to my best friend and literal soulmate, Kiki. happy birthday broski 🥰💖 i love you a lot, hope this can make you smile even a little hehe.
> 
> to deobis, i'm sorry if any characterizations or details are off, this is my first actual fic in the tbz fandom and i'm still familiarizing myself with them. unbeta'ed. i hope anyone who reads like this. (o゜▽゜)o☆

Changmin is being weird. 

Not to say he's not already weird, but this is even more than usual. This is the kind of weird that makes  _ Chanhee _ feel weird. 

Growing up together leaves little for them to be awkward with. They knew everything about each other, anything they owned also belonged to each other, and it only got worse after they started dating. Being boyfriends didn't change their usual dynamic, which already has a fixed rhythm and harmony, a melody only the two of them are attuned to—it only added  _ more.  _

Awkwardness becomes stark in the wake of it. A missed tune, off beat—noticeable even in the most microscopic scale. 

So Chanhee knows, and he doesn't doubt that Changmin knows he already knows. 

Still, Chanhee doesn't point it out. Not yet, anyway. He knows how to deal with Changmin, knows him better than he knows himself. This dance of theirs has been going on for over two decades, with slight fluctuation in tempos and a switch in dance partners—but if there’s one thing he’s sure of, it has never ended.

In this situation, he knows that he has to wait until Changmin is ready to be frank with him, or until he looks like he's on the edge of exploding; where Chanhee will have to physically wrangle him on the couch and lay on top of him until he gives in. 

Changmin has been like this for a week. Tripping over flat surfaces, sneaking glances as if they haven’t been together for the past five years; stopping in the middle of his sentences, strained, as if he has something to say but doesn’t know just the right way to say it.

Chanhee watches him trip over thin air for the second time today and sighs, fond. Whatever it is, he knows that as long as they are together, everything will be okay.

♡

Chanhee discovers the ring on Friday morning.

Hidden in the folds of Changmin’s socks, the smooth teal box could almost blend in with the similar shade of one of the sock pairs. Chanhee doesn’t like using socks, prefers slipping on fancy looking sandals whenever he could get away with it, and Changmin must’ve counted on that habit, believing that he wouldn’t rummage through the sock drawer anytime soon.

He probably didn’t count on Chanhee deciding to randomly do a morning run, therefore needing socks—and of course he would look into a drawer that Changmin mostly uses.

Chanhee doesn’t know how long he’s been standing there, hunched over the drawer, frozen. He doesn’t even realize his hands are shaking until he sees it in his periphery, reaching for the box tentatively. 

He opens the box, breath catching in his throat.

An elegant platinum ring sits inside, the middle is graced with a small heart-shaped diamond, glinting prettily under the morning light from the window next to Chanhee. 

_ Oh.  _

Things start to click. This must be why Changmin has been acting so weird.

Chanhee sits down on their bed, cradling the box close to his chest. 

Marriage, he thinks. He holds the word in his mouth and twists, breathes it out.  _ Husband, _ he thinks, and imagines calling Changmin that. 

He recalls Changmin through the years, memories bleeding honey and the sugary sweetness of missing a good day that has passed.

Eight years old, pushing a classmate off the swings for calling Chanhee stupid; fourteen and on the knife-edge of teenagehood, glaring at everyone except Chanhee; twenty, during the golden summer between college terms, the warmth of his palm on the back of Chanhee's neck as he kisses him on the porch of Chanhee's childhood home.

Changmin has been many things for Chanhee. His first friend. Best friend. Crush. His boyfriend.

Sometimes, Chanhee looks at Changmin and feels his heart grow a size too big. His thoughts are stanzas, lines arranged neatly in variations of meters. Changmin is a poem he doesn’t want to complete.

He knows this already. The same way being boyfriends didn’t change anything, he knows being husbands wouldn’t, either. It would only put to paper what they’ve been all along, anyway. 

_ Fiancè, _ he thinks. By default, he continues that line of thought:  _ Husband. _

Chanhee feels a smile starting to spread on his face. He would not mind that at all. 

The front door clicks. Chanhee looks up but doesn’t move. 

He waits until he hears the familiar footsteps heading towards their bedroom. When Changmin walks in—always beautiful, always smiling—his eyes widen at the sight of Chanhee, the same way they always do whenever he comes home exhausted after a long day, delighted and relieved. It never fails to fill Chanhee with warmth. He obviously thought Chanhee had gone on his run and wasn’t expecting him to be home.

Then his eyes fall to the box on Chanhee’s palms, and they go wide for an entirely different reason.

His jaw drops, visibly speechless. Chanhee waits patiently, but before anything could come out, Changmin trips on nothing. Chanhee abandons all rational thought, rushing forward to steady his ridiculous boyfriend with a hand on his elbow. 

“Chanhee,” Changmin says helplessly.

“Changmin,” he replies, withholding a chuckle.

“I had a speech—” 

Chanhee’s brain-to-mouth filter fails him right at that moment. “Will you marry me?”

“Hey—” Changmin tries to snatch the ring box from him. “—That’s  _ my _ line!”

Chanhee ducks under his outstretched arms and slips through the door, giggling. He expects a chase, and is not disappointed when he hears Changmin following suit. 

They spend the next few minutes chasing each other around the house until Chanhee gives in and lets Changmin tackle him to the living room floor, where they decide to wrestle instead. Chanhee stretches the hand holding the box far out of reach, his other hand fending off Changmin’s attempts on tackling him, legs tangled with one another. 

“It’s mine, isn’t it?” Chanhee gasps, out of breath from all the running and laughing. 

“I haven’t given it to you yet!” Changmin exclaims. 

Chanhee shrieks when Changmin’s fingers start to tickle his ribs. 

“Okay! I yield!”

Changmin snatches the ring box from his hands and collapses on the ground next to him.

They lay side by side in silence, catching their breaths. Chanhee relishes in the way their shoulders and arms are pressed against each other, every nerve in his body alight with joy. Twenty years, he thinks, and never a dull moment with Changmin.

Chanhee turns his head to face Changmin, only to find him already looking his way, with one of his stupid grins plastered on his face. Over the years, Chanhee has seen a wide variety of emotions from him, every single twitch in his expressions. He stores them in his memories and keeps a record of them—things to cherish, things to remember on rainy days.

This one is Chanhee’s favorite. It says, clear as day— _ ”I love you.” _

Chanhee feels his own features soften, the way it always does around Changmin. “Is this why you’ve been acting weird all week?”

Changmin covers his face with a palm.

“Yes.”

“Did you think I would say no?” 

Chanhee frowns. Proposals can be nerve-wracking, but surely Changmin didn’t think Chanhee would deny him anything—would think of a future without Changmin. Surely, he would have been confident in this. There is no one else for Chanhee, there never has been, and there never will be.

But Changmin’s silence is answer enough.

This too, he understands. Insecurity is a fickle thing. Chanhee had only been eased from his own worries because he’s the one who discovered the ring, overjoyed by the knowledge that Changmin would want to marry him. Changmin didn’t have that luxury.

Chanhee hums, turning to his side and throwing an arm over Changmin. 

“I wouldn’t,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose on Changmin’s shoulder. “Now you know.”

Changmin’s arms curl around his sides, holding him close. The ring is on the floor beside him. Chanhee sees this as a sign to continue. 

“You’ve been my favorite person ever since I first laid my eyes on you. That has been the only truth for twenty years, I doubt that will change,” he pauses, leaning up to press a kiss on the underside of Changmin’s jawline. “I  _ know  _ that will never change.”

“Then,” Changmin starts, he sounds choked up. “Will you marry me?”

Chanhee snickers. “I asked you first.”

“You found  _ my  _ box,” Changmin protests. “Where’s your ring?”

“Wow, so you’re saying that my proposal is invalid because I don’t have a ring?”

“You’re so— _ ugh!”  _

“Yes, yes,” he laughs.  _ “Yes. _ I will marry you. A thousand times over.” 

All the tension leaves his boyfriend. Chanhee glances up to see that Changmin is already staring at him again. This look, he deciphers, means:  _ “I am happy and content.”  _ Chanhee never wants him to look away. 

Chanhee grins, hauling himself up to straddle Changmin. “Now, what is this I hear about a speech?”

♡

**Author's Note:**

> wish [kiki](http://twitter.com/kunwooism) a happy bday!! if you reached this, thank you for reading!! talk to [me](http://twitter.com/layverse) on twt (✪ ω ✪)


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